Friday, March 30, 2007

madness

I woke up, climbed over my sleeping child, and foraged in the kitchen for foods. A peek out the window confirmed that the xfh had arrived home unkilled from his motorcycle trip over the grapevine at night. Oh well.

Mike knocked on my door at 7am. I looked through the peek hole and let him in, standing in my cupcake jammies holding half a grapefruit. He looked surprised, "Where's Gavin?" I took the spoon out of my mouth. "You're really hairy." Gavin ran out of the bedroom at the sound of his dad's voice, then went around showing him every new item purchased since the last time he saw him. I left the boys to enjoy each other and took a shower. Shaved one leg before giving up and deciding to wear tights.

Dressed, checked messages. Declined another of what sounded suspiciously like a date with co-worker. Felt reassured about my position re: dying alone and being eaten by wild dogs.

We gave Gavin a pep-talk about bullies, threw him out at daycare with kisses and pats. At work, I propped up a little paper bag containing one Smiths donut on Marc's desk as thanks for doing my desk duty while I was out sick. Settled into reference desk, scanning for new cartoons taped up around the desk. For angry noses! was freshly scribbled on the box of tissues. I admired the pasting job on the reference bear where Marc had added my suggested uniform of newsboy cap, cape, and spartan undies. The reference computer immediately crashed. The catalog stations kicked up their heels and died. "Well," I told Marc, "We can just tell them to stop complaining, it's Friday." "And they'll exclaim, 'FRIDAY!?' and run out the door waving their arms in liberated hysteria."

By lunch, the only person to do that was me. After going to the bank about a lost check, xfh and I sat in a booth at Sequoia talking about nothing much while he ate roast beef and I gnawed raw veggies. As he dropped me off at work again, he smiled. "Hey, I love you." I turned irritably. "Yeah, you, too, you jerk." He hugged me, I told him to shave and find a therapist, and that was that.

Jerk.

No comments:

Post a Comment